Day by Day
by Nanomemes
Summary: Various Snippets, slice-of-life style. Continuously updated.
1. Anima

_Another Story inspired on the Discord Server. These tend to be pretty short. In the future I might compile these snippets and submit them as a single story._

_If you want to write something, but feel like the idea will result in a really short fic, then hop over to the Discord and copy/paste the thing in the 'snippets' channel. Most of the KOF writers are there already (you remaining KOFFERS, we wish you'd come). Readers are also welcome._

_Enough advertising. This is my first fic without our (my) favorite red-haired psychopath. cheers._

_(dedicated mostly to David Tai) _

* * *

_Fake… Fake… FAKE!_

Seira-... no. the unnamed '_She'_ sat there, stiff as a board. stiff as a corpse. She stared forward at the computer screen. It's sterile blue-white light shone out on her face. Her expression reflected the unforgiving truth which seemed to assault her eyes continually.

"_-AF120210-C is third successful cloning project, conducted in preparation for project K. The subject was germinated from AF120210, who was in critical condition at time of DNA harvest - now deceased. Currently subject AF120210-C remains in base under AF120210's given name - code "Seirah" - and is available for study at any given time. This experiment proves the effectiveness of Cloning Method B (using Endonuclease to artificially induce asexual reproduction). Although Method A is the most ideal, in the event where Kyo Kusanagi cannot be detained live, Method B will be the fallback to accomplish Project K. In the event Method B is employed, we recommend immediate dissection and study of AF120210-C in order to assess its physical state-..."_

The breath in her lungs were heavy. There was a tightness in her chest and a great weight upon her shoulders. She was gripping the computer mouse so tightly that her knuckles stood white. Her breath was growing short. Ah… _control… control… _

Fake.

_She wasn't Seirah. She wasn't anybody… she was a mere experiment. A piece of walking flesh, to be used and expended at the leisure of the cartel._

She was a fake.

_Her whole identity was was crumbling before her eyes. Her whole world, the life she'd been living, was a lie. She was an imitation. She wasn't Seirah… what else was a fabrication? What else did NESTS tell her to keep her placated and obedient… until the day they might need to cut her into pieces?!_

Fake…

_She wasn't Seirah._

_No._

_She was nobody._

_She was anybody._

_She was whoever she wanted to be. _

She glanced down at the long, blue whip strapped to her hip. It was the only thing she knew was real. She stroked it affectionately beneath the desk, and closed her eyes.

She wouldn't cry.

NESTS had beaten that out of her long ago. No… she wouldn't wallow in sorrow. She wouldn't cry or mourn. She would flee. Flee the place shd called home for years. For her home had been her prison. Her friends had been her captors. Her '_brother'_? Was he a fake too?

Ah no matter… she wouldn't be made a fool of again.

She needed to take action.

And take action she would.

She stood up from her office chair and let her whip unwind to trail on the ground behind her. It was the only thing she had, her Whip… _Whip… not bad. _She took a deep breath and composed herself, quickly rubbing away the rebellious tear which scurried down her cheek. She set her face like flint and raised her head.

Today was the beginning of her new life… a true life… her _own_ life.

She would live it bravely.

* * *

_And thus, Whip is born._

_Cheers all_


	2. Introducing Miss X

_ Miss X is the name Iori put on his lease because he's trying to hide from the IRS._

* * *

"Uh… boss?"

Iori looked up from his drink.

"What's up, Howard."

The members of Iori's band had just finished practice for today and had decided they were going to go eat italian, and they planned to make the boss pay. Iori was on some sort of self-destructive 'red-meat-only' diet, so never touched italian food. He was something of a barbeque junkie and constantly suggested the same three restaurants for lunch.

His band members were getting rather fed up with it, and were determined to eat something healthier this time… of course, whilst not paying anything. That was a given. It wasn't as if they couldn't afford it. It had just become something of a game among them. The spirit of 'frugality and competition' was the only reason they'd put up with korean barbeque for six days straight.

But Iori wasn't generous enough to pay for food he wasn't going to eat. Rock and company needed to employ desperate measures.

The strategy was to get Iori drunk enough for Riot to come out. Then kindly ask Riot to hand over the credit card. It was a bit of a risky plan, but things were getting boring anyways - especially since Iori wasn't freaking out over his guitar technique anymore. Rock never thought he'd ever miss that.

_But at least something was going on… ugh, I wish we were on tour again. _

"How are you gonna promote the new album? Did you talk to anyone about it?"

"... not released yet."

"Uh, yeah. But aren't you gonna tease it? I mean what if nobody-"

"It'll be fine. We'll just release it after … (hic)... the KOF tourney this summer... Vancou-..."

Jake and Rob, primary guitar and drummer respectively, smirked at each other. They'd been looking a little nervous about the plan coming to fruition, but it seemed the alcohol had gotten to the boss's brain again. They motioned for Rock to keep on talking. Recently Iori had gotten more careful about his alcohol consumption, and that wasn't good for their plan. Rock's job was distraction, and he was grasping for topics.

"... uh… I mean, that stuff happens almost every year right? Don't you think we need to do something mor-"

"Like what?... (hic)... wanna crossdress?"

That was unexpected. Rock blinked and stuttered for a moment.

"Crossdre-... wait, wha-"

"If you wanna cause a stir…(hic)... wear one of those _(Japanese)... (more Japanese)._"

"Wait… uh, boss?"

_"(Japanese)"_

"..."

_"(Japanese)"_

"... alright. Uh..."

_"(Japanese)"_

* * *

**_two months later _**

It was finally June, and Rock was enjoying his vacation. Final exams were done, he had passed all his classes (although touring did throw a wrench in the works), and he was ready to participate in the next KOF tournament.

He was pretty excited about this year's team-ups. In the past he had only ever participated with his father, but this year he was going to be on the notorious Yagami team. Iori had even agreed to train with him for several months beforehand, so he was eager to see if he'd improved under that nightmare's tutlege.

So imagine Rock's surprise when a person who was very obviously Iori Yagami strode into the arena wearing a ninja mask and a sailor's dress. As usual he didn't look embarrassed in the least, and Rock swore he heard the clack of heels beneath the long purple skirt. Iori caught sight of him and elbowed his way through the stunned crowd to reach him. He clacked to a stop, crossed his arms, and craned his neck to look down at his flabbergasted team member. Although his voice was slightly muffled by the mask, Iori's unique accent rang clear as day. This was possibly the worst disguise on the face of the planet.

"Howard, what the hell are you wearing! I thought we agreed on this?"

Rock sputtered.

"What a-am… What am I wearing?!"

* * *

_Rock doesn't speak japanese, and inavertantly agreed to dress up for the next KOF._

_Yag should've have checked lol._

:o


	3. Catching Tunes

_This one is sometimes after 'On Tour'_

_(Canon to Nanoverse- if you care about this kinda stuff)_

* * *

"Hey Dad, can you help grab me a metronome?"

Terry looked up from his phone.

"That's the ticky thing, right? Where are they?"

He had stopped by Rock's rehearsal site because his son had forgotten his phone at home and had decided to stick around for a bit to see the inner workings of Iori's band. The location was actually a storefront in SouthTown Central, which Iori had rented out and furnished with a stack of folding chairs, a huge amount of band equipment, an old couch, and a refrigerator. The floor was still bare concrete, the ceiling was gutted and electrical wiring was exposed there. There were cords and music sheets scattered on the floor. Rock was re-tuning his guitar _(supposably Iori had yelled at him about it) _and sat in a folding chair with his phone balanced on his knee.

_I didn't know you could tune using your phone… is that an app?_

Rock seemed satisfied with his guitar and placed his phone on the ground. He plucked at the strings and shuffled through a binder of music sheets on the floor. Rock had joined about two monthsago and Terry was still a bit apprehensive about leaving his son alone with the crazy red-haired man.

In any case, Rock seemed to be settling in - not easily, mind you - but settling in nevertheless. He had complained nearly every night about Iori being '_absolutely nuts! He spent an hour yelling at me for playing glissando instead of vibrato… I don't even know what those things are!' _

Regardless, Rock didn't report any violence whatsoever. He got yelled at a lot, and came home every night with Italian leaking out of his ears, but otherwise it seemed mostly harmless. Besides, Rock had claimed this was going to kickstart his career and seemed intent on seeing this through, so Terry didn't stop him.

"Yeah, the metronome, it counts beats. They're over there near the boss, but you can just catch it."

Terry blinked.

"What? What do you mean catch it?"

"Just catch it okay? It's like the size of a water bottle. Don't drop it either, they're pretty expensive."

"Uh-"

Rock nodded, focused down on his sheets, and strummed a few chords. Terry put his phone down and decided he would just go over to Iori and ask for a metronome. He stood, dusted off his jeans and looked for the red-haired man. Behind him, Rock was strumming away.

Iori was standing on the other side of the room talking to the person on the drum set. He was wearing something awful again and seemed to be excessively jittery. He kept looking over to Rock and Terry's corner with a looks of mounting irritation.

_Does he not want me to be here? That's not right! I need to make sure Rock is saf- _

Something in Iori seemed to snap. Terry had never seen someone's expression describe their inner state so clearly. He bared his teeth, snatched something off the floor, and shrieked.

"HOWAARD! TEMPO!"

What seemed to be a… large black calculator, came hurtling across the room, directly at Rock.

Terry panicked and snatched it out of the air. He turned to yell at Iori.

"Yagami! What the hell wa-"

"Thanks dad."

Rock held out his hand. His expression was completely unsurprised with Iori's behavior. He acted as if his boss throwing shit around was business as usual.

"Rock… isn't this is dangerous?"

He shrugged.

"As long as you can catch, it's okay. It's faster than walking anyways. Can I have it?"

Terry silently handed the metronome to his son.

"Thanks."

* * *

_Duckling is so done lol_


	4. Riot Adventures(1)

_hehehehehe_

_NoThInG CoUlD SuRpRiSe HiM aNyMoRe._

_Sure duckling, sure._

* * *

"Boss where are we going?"

"Paintball."

"...uh-"

"Take the left, it's right there. That building… _I told you we'll be there soon. Can you calm down already?_"

Rock Howard blinked, then shrugged in resignation. He spun the mustang into the turn. Nothing could surprised him anymore. Not the random day trips. Not the weird conversations his boss had with himself. Not even getting set on fire _(Iori wouldn't burn him, it was just for show)._

Naturally, Iori - true to form- still managed to do some things so strange, that Rock got flashbacks of his early-band days. Days where he came in terrified at the very idea of the nonsense his boss had planned for that day.

Well, then again, he still was never completely sure what was going to happen when he walked into morning rehearsal. He was just learning to get used to the intensely erratic schedule... to just go with the flow. Dealing with his boss on the daily, and with Seirah on the weekly, was a pretty good way to mellow a person out. Because no matter how forceful your personality was, you'd eventually get beaten down by those two. If you didn't bend, you'd break… and by break, Rock meant '_go nuts'._

Usually rehearsal would just be another hellish day of Iori trying to jam his brain with music theory. Sometimes the boss would spend the entire time with the other band members and didn't so much as speak to him. He brought in a ping-pong table once and hosted a tournament with passerbys - a tournament which he lost, badly. Another time they all drove out to Hillsborough Canal and went fishing.

Some days - usually Thursdays - he just didn't show up. Nobody knew where he went on Thursdays. He wouldn't tell anyone either when they asked. Jake and Rob had tried to stalk him and find out, but somehow Iori always knew when he was being followed. It was one of the biggest mysteries within the band, and - well, _today's Thursday._

"So… you just play paintball on Thursdays? That why you don't come to work?"

"Nah, not me."

"What?"

"Not me."

Rock shrugged. There was no used in asking Iori Yagami for explanation. He just enjoyed the drive. Iori had two cars, one was some boring Volkswagen, the other was a modified monster Mustang. He had only ever driven his little motorbike, but had always dreamed of tearing up asphalt with a sports car. He _needed_ to drive that Mustang. His boss was the only supercar owner he knew who was careless enough to turn the keys over to a licenseless 19 year old.

Well, he had only crashed it a little, and he was pretty good at driving now, so Iori just made him the designated driver. He had even stole-... _'borrowed'_ the car once to go on a road trip with his friends once summer came around. He had borrowed it again when Seirah visited. Both times, he got the light and a half-hour lecture.

_Was totally worth it though. I can't take anyone anywhere on my bike… and it accelerates so fast, haha… I'm glad boss pays the gas… _

Rock pulled into a parking spot and cut the engine. He turned to unfasten his seatbelt and noticed Iori was hunched over in his seat, holding his head in both hands and muttering to himself. Rock frowned. That… wasn't normal.

"... Boss?"

Iori seemed to startle back to reality.

"Wha- ...ah. We've gotta change."

Rock watched incredulously as Iori emptied everything from his pockets, his wallet, phone etc... and stuffed it all into the glove compartment. He went to the trunk and began changing into paintball gear, right there in the parking lot. Unlike him, Rock wasn't comfortable walking around in his underwear - in public. He stuck his head out the window to yell.

"Could we please change inside?!"

Iori's voice was muffled. He was currently wrestling with his shirt.

"I don't know where the entrance is."

"What?"

"The other guy does, don't worry about it."

"The oth-... Who?!"

"Just change, Howard. Don't play without gear. You'll go blind. I got an extra set here." He fitted his helmet and picked up his paintball gun. He checked his gear, and when he was satisfied with it he walked over to Rock's window.

"I'm gonna bail for a bit."

"You're… you what? Can you please speak clearly?"

"Don't worry, he likes you. See you tomorrow. Study Suzuki tonight or I'll gut your ass."

"..."

"Study... and good luck with the paintball."

Rock just stared tiredly. This was just another bout of stupidity he had to deal with. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath and recalled the amount he was getting paid for this. He felt better afterwards.

When he opened his eyes, he immediately felt worse.

Because the air had changed. His boss, who usually stood straight, was hunched over. There was the sound of chattering teeth from behind the darkened visor, and his neck seemed to turn on a swivel. He cackled, his voice was muffled by the helmet, but it sounded like there were two people talking at once…

"D-D-DUCKLING!"

Rock started the car.

* * *

_Don't worry, Riot will find his way home. Maybe just run the whole way. He has that sweet Orochi power._

_Will probably tattle to Iori though. :(_

_Flame roasted duck soon._

_Yag's gonna give him the light._

_Riot needs some outlet from time to time - at least when Chiz doesn't have any work for him. He likes to paint - especially the most violent rendition of painting publicly avaliable. He's unbeatable because nobody can hit him lol... instinct OP/it's like losing to an autistic kid gg. _


	5. Upstate Farm

_Thank Mars for title_

_Be sure to read his stuff btw._

_also, More Sweetness with Rock Howard 3_

* * *

"His name is Anton, after my Grandfather - Antonio Ryan. Don't worry, he won't bite."

The bob-cut woman with the brilliant smile had reassured him. She was the first person to smile like that at him in a long, long time. The young boy looked up at her. Somehow she radiated a calm strength. Maybe it was that - her calm, intelligent authority, that was comforting. So for the first time in many… _years?_ He had smiled back.

And the dog didn't bite either.

"There! He's a good boy isn't he! Ah… let me get you a napkin."

Anton was a droopy old bloodhound who slobbered profusely everywhere he went. This time he had walked over to 11 year old Rock Howard's leg, and was currently soaking his way through the denim. Rock was too busy playing with Anton's saggy ears to be annoyed. He laughed and mussed the dog's face folds. Anton seemed to be enjoying himself too.

Behind him, Terry was sitting on the couch, looking relieved. Detective Mary patted him on the shoulder. Unbeknownst to Rock, he had caused his new, adopted father, an immense amount of worry. He hadn't been socializing well. He was distrusting and suspicious. He harbored a deep grudge toward his biological father, and by extension, his own pedigree.

He had been a bit of a mess, all of which was expected. His mother died when he was merely seven years old, and when he pleaded with his father for her medical treatment, he was turned away scornfully. The man wouldn't even entertain his audience.

Thenceforth he spent the next 4 years bouncing about the American foster system, being hustled from one miserable home to the next. Each time he was transferred to a new family, he hoped for a place that'd treat him kindly… but each and every time his hopes were smashed. To preserve his fragile heart, he'd stopped hoping.

So Terry Bogard was immensely relieved to see the boy looking _anything_ besides miserable. After all, he'd been here a mere three days and spent most of his time eyeing his new father as if expecting to be beaten. At least at the moment, he looked a little bit relaxed.

"He-hey, Anton?... is that right?... Hi boy..."

Rock smiled down at the dog's friendly face and squatted down. He was promptly tackled to the floor to be slobbered over. He made a tremendous effort to shield himself from the seeming gallons of dog spit that Anton seemed to produce, and the giant dog tongue that was exclusively aimed for his cheeks.

It was a little bit like being attacked, but for some reason, Rock couldn't stop laughing.

* * *

"A dog was your first friend?"

Seirah sounded a bit surprised. They were sitting outside an ice cream parlor in Southtown Central. He had ordered a banana split. She had gone with strawberry. It was a Thursday, and the boss -as was his habit - hadn't shown up to rehearsal. He took the day off to hang with Seirah.

"Yeah. Kinda weird, huh?"

"No, not really… Voodoo was my first friend."

Rock tried his best not to look surprised. He stuffed his mouth with banana before he could say anything dumb. Seirah continued.

"So… can I meet him? The dog I mean, and maybe the Blue Mary woman too. You said his name was Anton, ri-"

Perhaps she had noticed he looked crestfallen and stopped. Rock finished his mouthful of half frozen banana before continuing. Anton had been gone for… five years now, but thinking about him still caused a bittersweet feeling to rise in his heart.

"He ran away… apparently. That's what Mary said, but I don't believe her."

"Would she lie?"

"Maybe to protect me. She knew how much Anton meant to me - I was only fifteen at the time. She probably wanted me to think he was alive and happy somewhere."

Whip sat beside him, silently eating her ice-cream and listening. Rock continued.

" I know he would never run. He was a good dog. Loyal, loving… everything you could ask for… I knew he was dead."

Silence. He sighed and stuck his spoon into the chocolate scoop.

"Probably killed by some scumbag criminal too. He was a police dog after all. At least he died for justice. I'm sure Mary mourned for him on her own, but with us she acted like she had never even had a dog… I admit it was pretty weird, but I think she was probably watching out for me. I was pretty torn up about him."

Whip took a bite from her cone. After a long moment she spoke.

"Did they catch the criminal?"

"Dunno… I hope so. If I ever meet him, I'll probably beat him into the emergency room… anyways, want coffee? Maybe you can tell me about Voodoo."

* * *

_HAHAHAHA jk I'm evil you all knew that._

\- _Reference Mastermind._

_Love yo all. roast me in the reviews_


	6. Ladybeard

_Ladybeard X Miss X crossover. You'll have to ask David Tai what he was smoking. Totally not Nano at all._

_Completely not canon. At all._

_NanoNotes: I love Iori casually walking around in a dress. He just gives no fks and i love it._

* * *

Rock Howard couldn't believe his eyes.

They were supposed to be fronting for a band, which they had just finished, for a band that called itself DEADLIFT LOLITA. Its lead singer, Ladybeard, had a simple motto: Sing, Dance, DESTROY!

Which the band -was- indeed doing, in the middle of a song "LADYBEARD JUSTICE FIGHT!"

The problem was, that wasn't Ladybeard.

Rock might have wanted to bleach his eyes and burn his brain, but he was pretty sure that was Chang Koehan, in a Shermie Dress.

Seirah commented, next to him, in a muted, horrified voice, "That's not who I think it is, is it?"

"I think it is. You think, uh, Kim Kaphwan put them up to it?"

"A 'Ladybeard Justice Fight' rendition? I wouldn't put it past him, but..."

"That wig's not doing him any favors."

Seirah clung to Rock's arm. "My god..."

Rock wasn't about to admit that he was clinging to Seirah out of similarly terror. Especially...

"Aren't they going to play 'Valentine Kiss' next?" Seirah asked, before pointing to a tiny figure, dressed up in a gothic lolita dress. Said figure was wearing...

"OH MY GOD, IT'S CHOI BOUNGE!"

"HE'S MAKING KISSING FACES!"

"BURN IT IN FIRE!" Whip screeched, unleashing Voodoo, even as Rock struggled to hold her back.

"WHAT'S GOING ON HERE?!" Iori's voice was loud, if muffled.

"Boss!" Rock had never been so glad to hear his boss's voice in his whole life. "You got to help me..."

His voice trailed off, as he eyed Iori Yagami, dressed in a sailor uniform, with a bandana tied over his mouth.

"What're you waiting for? We're UP! What are you wearing?!"

"... wait, we were supposed to cross-dress for this...?"

"It's a special battle of the bands! Of course we are!"

"... no, no, no, you can't make me. Seirah, help!"

Seirah looked torn. "... maybe just once..."

"YOU TRAITOR!"

* * *

_lowkey Seirah would totoally do it. She's a Yaoi Fangirl after all. Yall Know how those are like lol._

_All rise for David Tai Yeet!_


	7. Interview Strategies

_This was inspired by a reddit post._

_It's not my fault._

_I don't think Iori Yagami ever looked for a job lol, but I wanted to include Shingo in something._

_So non-canon in Nanoverse_

* * *

It had been a nightmare getting the two of them out of bed - especially considering all were jetlagged, and they were probably hungover - but Shingo thought it was worth it. There was nothing he liked more than trying new things, especially foodstuffs, and authentic Turkish coffee had been on his bucket list for years.

And what better place to find Authentic Turkish coffee, than early morning in the heart of Istanbul!

He relaxed and breathed in the sweet aroma of roasting cardamom as he observed the narrow streets slowly fill with commuters through the tall, planked windows. Kyo sat beside him looking drowsy. His eyes were glazed over and he was in no state to hold any sort of intelligible conversation. A moment ago, he had been saying something about this list abou proper etiquette at a job interview, but he got distracted by the coffee arriving, and seemed to lose his train of thought.

Shingo didn't mind. They'd be competing together for the next two weeks, so they'd have plenty of time to talk. Whatever Shingo wanted to say, he would definitely have the opportunity to say it. At the moment, he was content to enjoy his senior's company silently.

Across the room, Iori Yagami was snarling at somebody in Spanish, which, of the three he knew, was the language he decided was the closest to Arabic.

High-energy as ever, he seemed to have dodged the effects of the time change - 'Airplane. Sleeping pills. Want some?' was his explanation - and was trying to argue with the waitstaff about something. Unfortunately neither understood a word the other said, but Yagami seemed to be going at it with such zeal, Shingo couldn't help but admire his dedication.

He really hadn't spent much time with Iori, and he couldn't say he was entirely comfortable around the man. After all, he seemed pretty unhinged. Kyo had assured him that the team would be fine. Hopefully as the tournament progressed, Kyo's words would prove true. Because getting on Iori Yagami's nasty side was at the top of his 'Don't do this' Bucket list.

He closed his eyes and took a sip of his coffee.

He noticed out of the corner of his eye, that Kyo had already drained his cup and was looking considerably more awake. He picked back up on the conversation they were having as if nothing had happened. Behind them, Iori had gotten into a yelling match with the manager.

"So the websites are all like, make sure you stalk your interviewer on facebook, and all this creepy stuff, but I knew this one guy who just said 'fuck it', I guess he didn't want to job anyways. He told me he whipped out his peen mid interview to assert dominance. Honestly I don't believe him because you can get arrested fo- oh, sup dude. What's that. Gimme one."

Iori had made his way back to the table with a plate full of cheese rolls. He sat down and unsuccessfully tried to safeguard his foodstuffs from Kyo, who had already stuffed two into his mouth.

"Did dey give you dis for free?"

"No. They charged me extra."

"Then what were you yelling about?"

There was a moment of silence where Iori squinted his eyes and seemed to be thinking very hard. Kyo started chortling and Shingo did his best to behave neutrally. Kyo could probably get away with whatever he wanted because he was strong enough to fight Iori as an equal. That wasn't something Shingo was currently capable of, so he didn't want to risk becoming barbequed over something like this.

"I don't remember."

"Pfft, thought so. Anyways," He turned back to address Shingo, "so he "says" he got the job after doing that. Hell if I believe him, but there you go. The first thing you do in a job interview is to pull out your bad boy and flop it on the table. It shows you're serious."

He finished the story with a flourish, and seemed about to progress to another topic before Iori interrupted. His voice was deadly serious and he deadpanned at the both of them.

"Don't listen to him. It's a bad idea.."

Kyo blinked, the grin on his face faded off and he turned to look incredulously at the red-haired man. Shingo stared at the table and willed himself to breathe deeply and not spit out his coffee. Iori continued, as if he were speaking some sage wisdom.

"It doesn't work. They just get really mad."

There was a moment of silence. Shingo was doing his best not to laugh, but he couldn't help but begin shaking. He hastily excused himself. Behind him, he heard a Kyo mutter to himself.

"I swear… sometimes you still surprise me, man."

* * *

_GG_


	8. Illusion

_I found this in snippets over at discord._

_Also, I haven't uploaded in like month, so this is just to tell people I'm alive._

_This was probably written for illy. but it was four months ago, so eh._

* * *

The day was winding down at the Illusion.

It was approaching midnight and customers were slowly finishing up and filing out of the bar. The low murmur of conversation mixed with the sounds of clinking glasses and slow jazz over the radio lent the place a relaxed atmosphere. The bar was large, but cozy. It was all slim leather couches about discreet tables. The room was lighted with old-style 'exposed filament' light bulbs which provided a dim, but comfortable light. The faint smell of tobacco permeated the air.

"Sally… watch that table… "

"Sure boss."

The bar was classy, beautiful, and was frankly King's pride and joy. It was her baby, and she wouldn't have anyone damage it. Patrons who had dared fight in her bar felt first-hand the painful reality of her devotion. But, of course, beating her own clients into submission generally wasn't good business practice. She tried to keep the martial arts to a minimum while at work.

"-granted, the industry is rather… seedy… but that's where you come in. All we need is to leverage your political connections and we will pay Kagura Phar-"

"KP doesn't deal with your type. Watch how you address me."

"-ah, of course. Excuse the slip of the tongue Miss Yata. As I was sayin-..."

At the far corner, at the back of the bar, were eight men and one woman. The skinny bespectacled man that was addressing 'Miss Yata' was accompanied by six men, who were obviously either bodyguards or hitmen. They each averaged 300 pounds, were all built like linebackers, and wore identical suits and sunglasses. Their burly frames nearly blocked King's view of the negotiation, but she couldn't have possibly missed Southtown's resident red-haired lunatic, who had accompanied Miss Yata.

Iori Yagami and Chizuru Kagura seemed to be the only members of the counterparty. They had been discussing matters for the past two hours over King's most expensive bottle of wine. Well, Chizuru was doing the talking. Iori looked bored out of his mind and was slumped over in the chair, staring at the ceiling with a glazed look in his eyes.

_The psycho's back again… ugh… I hope he didn't drink too much out of that bottle. He's bad enough sober…_

Iori Yagami had built something of a reputation for himself among SouthTown's bar scene. It was a toss up, really. Sometimes he walked in, had something to drink, and left peacefully. Other times he brought his guitar and paparazzi with him… but usually he just started foaming at the mouth and charring footprints into the floor whilst trying to eat everything off the coat rack.

_That was a hell of a night… at least he paid for the hardwood…_

King sighed and finished wiping down counter. She gritted her teeth as she heard him mutter something in Japanese and stomp his way over to the bar. He plopped himself down on one of her bar stools and stared at her. Obviously waiting to be served. King decided to let him wait.

"King."

"..."

"Hey, King?!"

_Ugh, this brat._

She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and raised her head to address him with her normal, cool, professionalism. Behind him, the Mafia bodyguards had formed a threatening ring around Chizuru. It was clear to King, that Iori had be brought on as Chizuru's bodyguard… and he was doing a shoddy job. King frowned and unconsciously wound her hand into a fist. Chizuru had a spotless reputation and was well loved by many King of Fighters participants. King had even participated in a few tournaments alongside her, and considered her a friend.

Well, in the past couple of years, they'd grown apart - but considering Chizuru was running the largest pharmaceutical company in the world, King just attributed the lack of contact, friendly or otherwise, with lack of time.

Thus King was already mentally prepared to step in, in case things got messy.

_I'd actually prefer that. Fire causes a lot of collateral damage... Besides, me and Chizuru can take them on easy._

"Whiskey on the Rocks."

Iori slapped a twenty on the counter and stared at her expectantly. King blinked at it and weighed her options. She could either feed Iori's alcoholism and risk having to replace the floor again, or she could take his money…

_Pish… worth the risk. I'll just bill him for the floor too_

She plucked a Jack Daniel's off her shelf, and pointed at Chizuru's table with her chin.

"Is she going to be alright?"

"Yeah, she's not real anyways."

"What?"

"She's not real."

"... alright."

_nutjob..._

* * *

_That's it._

_:/_


	9. Riot Adventures(2)

David did this as a Leona/Iori thing as a follow-up to the Iori/Leona scene from MOS.

NOT CANON.

* * *

Leona had seen -enough- of Iori Yagami to know when his demonic alter ego broke free.

So when 'Riot' came out -right- after his _'boss'_ was knocked on his head by a falling stage light, Leona -immediately- made for the stage, shoving her way through the sweaty, cheering crowd.

Up on stage, Yagami's co-performers had noticed immediately. Athena looked panicked - but continued singing her lines regardless. Yashiro and Shermie were smiling more widely and usual and seemed to be yelling at the now-insane _creature_ from beneath the noise. Kensou began drumming even more wildly. Rock Howard simply turned tail and bolted off stage, as Riot - still clinging to his microphone, cackled wildly and lit himself on fire. The red haired man hunched halfway over, twitching, grinning and glancing around erratically.

_Uh oh... _

The acoustic feedback as Riot proceeded to smash Iori's -probably expensive -guitar, was terrific, sending a loud screech to the crowd's _"THIS IS AWESOME!"_ chant. _(Most of)_ the other stage performers didn't appreciate that, and were going into crisis mode. Athena was concentrating hard - obviously in some attempt to employ her powers against the now-dangerous potential murderer. Unluckily, it didn't seem to be working. Kensou had leapt out of his drum set and clearly wanted to help, but didn't know how. Rock Howard had seemingly fled the scene.

Whip, who had come to a stop beside her, instinctively pulled out Voodoo. Everyone around them, except Leona, flinched as the soft leather snapped against itself with a loud _crack. _A path was cleared before them as they approached the stage, where Riot had melted the guitar's body into a steaming mess of smoking wood and enamel and was rapidly losing interest in it. Leona needed to do something before Riot turned his attention to the other members of the band, or worse - the audience.

_"RIOT! STOP!"_

Iori snapped his empty gaze over to her as she hopped up onstage. Leona wasn't sure what she saw in that vacant gaze, but it seemed like Riot recognized her - if only barely. He was still alight as he tossed back his head and crowed into his microphone.

"BLUUUUUE!"

She was standing on stage - All eyes on her and facing down a... _maybe unhappy? _looking Blood Riot. He was grinning, but he was always grinning. He pointed his mircophone at her and shouted.

"PAINT."

_ohh noo... _

"Riot! Stop it, no!"

Riot cackled and pointed past her shoulder to the audience.

"PAINT THEM!"

Flames ballooned outwards. Riot's intentions had become very obvious to the bystanders, and they began to murmur in panic.

Behind them, Athena and Kensou looking to be plotting something dangerous with all the psycho powers flashing about them. Shermie and Yashiro had kicked back to watch the show, and Rock How-...

_Is that a water gun? _

Rock Howard had appeared with a super soaker.

A spray of red-dyed -water- managed to catch some of the audience in the backlash, but most of it was dumped right at its primary target: Riot.

"_DUCKLIIIIIING!" _

With Riot distracted, Leona was able to get her hand on the closest weapon available.

And to a stunned silence that suddenly erupted into loud cheers, Leona put an end to the show in the most metal way possible;

She smashed Iori's guitar over Riot's head.

As splinters of wood and electric went flying, Riot's eyes rolled back, he staggered to the audience, and faceplanted... just enough to be caught up in a crowd of hands.

To the chants of 'THIS IS HARDCORE!", an unconsious Iori went crowdsurfing.

"Is this safe?" Kensou asked, with some concern.

"Just keep playing!" Rock yelled, as he proceeded to air-guitar with the super soaker.

"Do not worry. Whip'll bring him back," Leona said calmly, kicking the remaints of Iori's guitar to the side of the stage.

"The show must go on!" Athena exclaimed!

And so it did.

* * *

"BLUE... play..."


	10. Clone Adventures v1

_OOF_

* * *

It was the beginning of round three in Paris, and for the first time in his long career, Iori Yagami wanted to turn on his heel and walk right out of the ring.

He was essentially an industry veteren. He didn't need to research - or even look at - the members of upstart teams… right? KOF rules forced him to meet the eager ones anyways in their stupid annual meet and greet. He never remembered any faces from that pathetic waste of time, but if _this team _ had showed up, then hell. Iori Yagami would have dropped the entire tournament right there.

But alas, they hadn't. So Iori didn't know their faces until he was in the ring with them, three rounds into the tournament, and surrounded by an excitedly screaming crowd. The audience was finding the matchup very exciting. After all, fire-user fights were loud and flashy - fan favorites, and the fact the '_Clone Team' _was composed of three of them made them the rising star among fans. They were incredibly eager to see how the new blood fared against the old, and they made their enthusiasm clear by shaking the coliseum.

But as he stood there in the ring, hands pocketed in the tight leather pants Mature had shoved him in, he felt a cold writhing in his guts. He shivered involuntarily. His head began to hurt. Even Riot had gone silent - sensing his '_boss's_ distress. For once, the little bitch was being considerate.

Across the ring was Kyo Kusanagi. Sitting on the sidelines were two more Kyo Kusanagi who were identical, save one had gotten some serious tanning done. They looked at him grimly. Iori wouldn't even look straight at them.

Vice and Mature hadn't realized something was up. They were sitting happily on the sidelines playing scrabble. Actually, nobody should have known _anything was up_. Only the Original Kyo and Kagura knew, and maybe Heidern and IKARI. This crowd had no idea how many piles of three month old 'Kyo Kusanagi's Iori had cut down. Grief stricken men with the innocence of toddlers. Living like slaves, then dying like dogs... by his hand.

Was somebody playing a joke on him? _Fight these guys? Are you kidding me?_

"You won't get in our way, Yagami! Prepare to get burned!"

The pre-game banter had started. The crowd quieted in tense anticipation, eager to hear what 'clone' team had to say to the famously surly Iori Yagami. Perhaps they saw uncertainty in his reactions? Either way, Iori never cared what the crowd thought. Normally he told whoever he was fighting to '_fuck off and die', _but today he would break his '_death-threat streak'_… he needed to know.

"Where. What base."

It was a question, but he stated it like a command. He raised his eyes to the fighter's face, then quickly looked down again. A murmur ran through the crowd.

"...uh, base? We're Peru. Do you remember that? humph… _Stop with the sweet talk! Surrender or we're gonna beat you to the ground!_"

Kyo squared up and got into a fighting stance, bouncing up and down on the soles of his feet. His attitude was a bit more aggressive than the original, but his eyebrows did the same annoying thing. Iori didn't get into stance. He remained as he was, memories of South America flooded his head and he grimaced. The cold snake in his guts had grown icy and irritated. He felt nauseous.

"Revenge?"

"Shut up and fight! We can talk with our fists!"

The whistle blew and Kyo came charging him down to throw a punch at his face. As Iori dodged, he noticed the sloppiness of his form. Of course it wouldn't be perfect. This kid has been '_born' _what - an absolute maximum of four years ago? Perhaps even sooner depending on how recently the Peruvian cloning projects began. He was trying his best, but for the KOF, his best wasn't going to cut it. Especially not with him, who was used to fighting the original.

"Hey- _Gaah!_"

A low kick to the knee unbalanced the clone fighter, and a hard punch to the ribs put him to the ground. A flash of craven terror appeared in the clone's eyes as Iori stomped a loafered foot into his gut and pinned him down. He leaned over the other man to continue.

"Tell me what you're here for. Is it revenge?"

There it was, the telltale hate he saw in the eyes of all the clones. They hated him because he had murdered them. It was justified. Righteous even. Imagine? Earning the hate of little children? _Ridiculous._

Kyo spit at him.

"We're not here for you! Get off your high horse."

He tried to scramble to his feet, but another kick laid him flat again.

"Oh? Then what the hell are you doing here?!"

Clone Kyo lit himself on fire with a shout and scrambled to his feet. Iori rolled his eyes and hopped back. The crowd was going wild all around in anticipation of seeing blood.

"We're here to prove ourselves against the Original! We've had more than enough of you! Stop bothering us and surrender! Just leave us the hell alone!"

Kyo came a-running again. This time is style was even sloppier, but his movements betrayed both trauma and desperation. This time Iori met him with a punch to the jaw. He went flat and flailed dizzily on the ground. Iori walked alongside him to stare down. His voice didn't come out as aggressively as he intended.

"You wanna beat Kusanagi like _that? _Are you kidding me? Pathetic!"

The clone spit blood at him.

"You won't stop us! Haven't you done enough?! What else do you want? Huh? Are you gonna kill me in front of a crowd, like you did to the others?"

The clone continued to flail on the floor whist threatening to knock him out. Outside of the ring, another clone ran alongside and shouted encouragements in Spanish. This whole situation might have been amusing if Iori didn't feel so awful. The cold snake in his guts was tearing around with a vengeance.

"We're going to beat the Original and go right to the top of KOF! We'll prove we're the real deal! Now get the hell out!"

His brave words were contrary to his body language. He was wary, scared even, as he climbed to his feet and slowly backed to a safe distance. There was hate and loss etched into his face. He stared at Iori as if he were a devil of some sort. For him, this was probably a moment he'd been dreading since the brackets were announced.

His voice trembled. The clone on the sidelines looks ready to jump into the ring to support his brother. He was wearing a similar expression - except his was shot through with concern.

"Forfeit! Leave us alone!"

The crowd had settled into a murmur. They didn't know what was happening. It was obvious that Iori could finish this team alone, but the fact that he hadn't - yet - confused them. Someone called out for blood, then a chant arose.

_GET HIM. GET HIM. GET HIM. GET HIM._

The stadium shook with the crowd's bloodlust. Iori glimpsed despair in two sets of familiar eyes. Iori Yagami wasn't a sentimental man by any means. He suffered a rather stony heart, but with enough impact, even that could be shattered. At this moment, he loathed himself more than anything. He was _sure _there was nothing he could do to repay that debt of blood he owed. The guilt smouldering in the back of his mind might be appeased - just a little.

What was a Tournament compared to _that? _Hell, if he dropped out - maybe he'd sleep better at night. He'd be invited back next year regardless of what he did. There was no harm in it, besides for disappointed the crowd… but they could screw themselves.

"Just give up! You'll regret ever-"

"Alright."

"Facing us in battle… _uh._"

Without looking back, Iori Yagami walked to the side of the ring, vaulted over the side, landed on the pavement below and headed toward the locker rooms. Behind him, the referee screeched his whistle and yelled at him. The crowd began booing. The clone team watched him in shocked silence. Vice and Mature were startled out of their scrabble game and stared at him.

… _Animals._

A short time passed and the noise was swallowed by concrete walls. The room was empty, and he walked past the benches, the sinks, the lockers, until he found the shower stalls. He flipped on the water and stepped in - fully clothed. He sat heavily there, back leaned against the tiled walls and curled up, holding his knees.

Then he laughed.

There he sat in the men's locker room, icy water pouring down on him, chilling him to the bone - and laughing. Laughing bitterly and mourning.

Because he had watched himself become a murderer, helpless to control even his own path forward. He never wanted this. He never wanted _anything _like this. But what he wanted didn't one bit. He was a blade of grass in the wind. His life was directed by the cruel, mindless forces. Things he liked? Things he hated? Things he had to do? Things he shouldn't? His beliefs, he obsessions, his loves, his hates… all were given to him. All were _done _ to him. He had no control, not even of his own being.

Was he insane? An actual lunatic?

And if he _was _crazy… was it his fault?

Or was he just born this way?

* * *

_Or maybe it's maybelline?_


	11. CHONK

_THE BIG CHONK_

* * *

"_-do I need an MRI for?!"_

"_Madame Kagura sai-"_

"_I never get sick! Why the hell do I need an MRI? I'm not gonna let you strap me down to that thing! Oy, back off!"_

Chizuru Kagura exhaled a long breath and clacked to a stop outside of the medical laboratory doors. One more step and she would trigger the automatic mechanism, and be thrown headlong into the banter inside - but for the moment, she was safe. She took a moment to compose herself and smooth her hair.

_Alright, Gammy. Cause me more trouble and I'll beat you to a pulp._

With a clack, the door opened to a scene which looked like it was taken out of one of those mental asylum horror movies. Iori Yagami was standing in the middle of her expensive laboratory dressed in a medical smock and screaming at her doctors. Akira - her head or R&D - was trying to reason with the red-haired man, and (naturally) it wasn't working. _He _had been the one who wanted the MRI so badly that had begged her for this. He hadn't succeeded with the virus antidote, but Chizuru was eager to show goodwill to those who benefitted her.

"_Sir, please calm down. This is jus-"_

"_Stay away! Keep that needle off me or I'll set you on fire!"_

"_Sir! We're not trying to hurt you!"_

"_Get back!-"_

Chizuru had involuntarily crunched up the sheaf of papers in her fist. She curled her lip into something of a snarl and barked over the commotion, employing her powers to make herself heard.

"_Yagaaami!_"

Everyone froze. Every neck swiveled to fix their gaze upon her. She clacked forward through the silence toward the red haired man, who was beginning to look sheepish. She smacked him as hard as she could with a hundred-million dollar sales contract and he showed his palms in submission.

"What are you doing Gammy! I told you you needed an MRI!"

"-wait, but… I don't-"

_*Smack*_

"Cooperate!"

"There's no reas-"

_*Smack*_

It wasn't often that Chizuru Kagura had the option to take out her stress physically. It was especially satisfying because she was one of the few people who could beat up on Iori Yagami with no repercussions whatsoever. He wouldn't dare fight her, he feared hurting her too much, and Chizuru suspected he rather liked being slapped around and fretted over.

_Strange kid. _

He did look a bit hurt from the tongue lashing though. So Chizuru rolled her eyes and put down her contract to give him a quick squeeze. Then she patted his cheeks with both hands and smiled up at him. He blinked and startled pink.

"You're getting fat, Gammy."

"_What! I'm not."_

"Then get in the MRI and prove it."

* * *

_THICC BOI_


	12. Larry, the Ceiling Friend

_Yag cheating on Brian_

* * *

"Alright guys, I've got two announcements, so listen up."

Today was the first workday since Iori's band returned to SouthTown. Rock got dropped home on Friday and spent nearly all weekend sleeping off his jetlag. He wasn't awake all that much, but when he was, he was uncharastically silent. He refused to talk about anything besides for trivial topics and he seemed disturbed and depressed. He was clearly troubled by something, but wouldn't divulge anything of note to his adoptive father.

Naturally, Terry was regretting ever letting Rock go globetrotting with his psycho-boss, but then again, he didn't have much choice in the matter. Something bad had happened during the trip, and Terry's 'Dad' instincts were telling him to find out exactly _what._ If Rock wasn't going to talk, then Terry was going to squeeze answers out of Iori. Literally, if necessary.

But perhaps today wasn't such a good day for getting straight, reasonable answers. Not that it was ever easy getting _'reasonable'_ from Iori, but today, it looks like Terry wasn't even going to get '_straight'_.

Iori Yagami had climbed into one of the couches scattered about the gutted storefront, and was gesticulating as he spoke. All four band members (plus Terry) were in attendance, and none of them looked even a little bit shocked as Iori introduced "Larry" to them.

"First thing. Starting today I'm officially a homosexual. This is my boyfriend."

He gestured to the dusty ceiling fan he was holding beneath one arm. It still had wires sticking out from its base, and looked suspiciously like the one which had been mounted in his living room. Terry was doing his best to keep a straight face. He wasn't sure if he wanted to burst out laughing, or get mad. Either way, he figured he should probably call the mental hospital as soon as he could sneak away. Terry glanced over to Rock, who - surprisingly - was completely unfazed and calmly eating his Mcdonald's breakfast.

Iori continued.

"His name is Larry. Treat him nice or I'll kick you in the nads. Capiche?"

Almost everyone ignored him, save the drummer who, in a bored voice, said "You two look good together." before going back to fiddling with the screws and knobs on his drumset. The bassist was busy tuning and didn't even bother raising his head to look at the red-haired man and his new lover. Iori didn't seem to care that nobody wanted to listen to him.

"Second thing. Howard, learn this piece. The tempo is Seventy and a half-"

Rock put down his McGriddle to protest. Iori cut him off and shook a binder at him.

"Ah! Ah! Don't argue with me. Seventy and a half. Look. You can even change the key signature, but don't touch the tempo."

"Boss, you're a nut."

"Maybe, but that's none of your business. Also Larry doesn't think so. He agrees that tempo is important."

Iori reached up, patted the ceiling fan on it's uppermost blade and began talking to it in Spanish. Rock sighed, took the papers and moseyed off to his corner of the storefront, leaving Terry alone with the red-haired man.

Terry grimaced and uncrossed his arms. He had a million questions to ask Iori - especially '_what the hell did you do to my son to make him act so weird?' _\- but Iori was currently attempting to sweet talk broken furniture, and his eyes were bugging out _just _slightly. Terry decided to ask a more relevant question.

"Oy, Iori. How high are you?"

"_Oy bebe, eres-..."_ He swiveled his head to focus on Terry, "What are you talking about. I'm deadass sober. Do I look high?"

Terry glanced from Iori to the ceiling fan, then back to Iori. He sucked air through his teeth as he replied.

"Well, honestly I was hoping you were. At least you'd have an excuse for carrying that thing around."

Iori's expression darkened.

"Hey Bogard. First, Larry is a '_He'. _Also, if you can't respect my preferences, then you aren't welcome here. Lemme kindly invite you to get the fuck out… _finally_, _I'm_ not the druggie in this group."

Iori jerked his chin at Rock's corner, then hopped off the couch and began stalking toward Terry with the clear intention of escorting him out.

_Huh? Rock? A druggie? Hold up..._

Terry squared up. He wasn't about to be chased around by Mr.'_I've lost the last of my marbles'_.

"What does that mean? Who's a druggie!"

Iori glared at him. His eye-level was slightly below Terry's so he didn't quite strike an intimidating figure, but the blades of the ceiling fan were threatening Terry's personal space. Terry resisted the urge to slap the fan away - because that was sure to drive Iori straight off the edge.

Iori hissed at him.

"_Who's the druggie?_ Who do you think?! He won't even stop when I threaten to tell Geese about it! I have no idea where he's sourcing his shit, but the kid has been high as a kite for the last month-and-a half. Now leave."

Terry furrowed his brow and ignored the man trying to shoo him out the door. _Rock _was doing drugs? Is that why he was sleeping so much add acting so strangely? Was he suffering withdrawals after a month-long escapade into illicit substances? Is that why he refused to talk about the finer details of his trip?

"_Iori! _You let him take drugs?! Are you serious!"

Terry grabbed the Japanese man by the front of his shirt and nearly dragged him off his feet. Iori was equally ready to resort to violence, and was about to make a grab for Terry's throat when the loud snap of plywood rang out from between the two men.

Larry had just lost an arm.

Iori took a moment to process what had just happened, then proceeded to go completely ballistic.

Terry took the opportunity to sprint over to where Rock was ignoring them, grabbed his son by the arm, and dragged him out the back door of the building. The police station wasn't more than a couple of blocks away, and Rock was in for a serious lecture.

* * *

_Rock doesn't do drugs. Iori just lives in his own world man._

_His bandmates are liek 100% done with him lmao_


	13. Whipstorm - Switcheroo Alternate

_hey, so David wrote this as an aside for that mess that is 'Switcheroo'_

_He likes to do fun things with the chars that actually make sense. I'm just flailing around over here with the actual plot and I have no idea what I'm doing. So ye. _

_Anyways. The entire premise of this chapter is that through some medical magic I have yet to sort out, Rock Howard and Iori Yagami did a bodyswap. _

_Now Iori is a really angry, 19 year old, blonde teenager._

_and Rock is now big fireboi. _

* * *

Terry hesitated upon seeing his son's phone.

Really, he should call Seirah, shouldn't he? Though Terry had never actually -met- Seirah, he'd seen Rock's pictures.

Apparently she was a fan who left an unforgettable impression.

Something about the pictures struck him as naggingly familiar, but that would've been impossible, and Rock seemed reluctant to share the private details. But he owed it to her to tell her why Rock hadn't checked in.

So when he called Seirah, he was rather pleasantly surprised by how young she sounded.

"Hello? Rock?"

"I'm sorry. This is Terry Bogard. I'm calling because..."

"What? What happened to Rock?"

"Hold on, let me explain..."

The girl was absolutely silent as Terry summed up the freaky fortnight Rock was having.

When Terry was done explaining, there was silence.

"I'll be right there," Seirah responded in a clipped voice. Click.

Not even a word in before he got a chance to say she didn't have to.

Then again, it was nice that his son had found someone who cared.

* * *

When Terry opened the door to see Whip, standing there, he was momentarily taken aback. "Um... Whip? What are you doing here...?"

"Where is Howard?"

"Eh...?"

Whip pushed her way in. "Howard!"

What Terry had expected wasn't clear. He'd been expecting Seirah, but gotten... Whip? And whatever he had expected, Whip bringing out her whip and wrapping his son in its coil wasn't it.

Whip dragged him over, kicked Rock in the stomach and waited. The body's current inhabitant screeched at him.

"FUCK YOU STALKER GIRL!"

Whip spun around to Terry. "That isn't Rock."

Whatever else she might have been about to say, Terry didn't stick around to find out, because a familiar tingling sense was kicking in.

And thus, Whip and Terry and Iori found out that Rock had far, far more power than expected, as a huge Raging Storm blew up the room.

* * *

_Idiot blew up his own house._

_GG._

_Send David Tai a Nice PM_


	14. Big Meatball

Magnus Midtbo is the most beautiful man oh my god.

find him on youtube.

* * *

"Boss, you're cheating."

"Shut your trap, Howard. This is a climbing gym, and I'm climbing!"

Iori was clinging to a wall about thirty feet above the ground, and was regretting ever agreeing to come here. Iori wasn't particularly afraid of heights. He was just dreading the three stories fall to the ground with nothing for protection besides for a half inch rope and a rappel.

A manual rappel.

Rock Howard was rappelling him.

Rock Howard was also yelling at him from the floor.

"There are holds, man! And technique. You can't just poke holes in the wall!"

"Shut up!"

His voice went a little high there, but there wasn't much he could do about that. He had forsaken all of Rock's wonky climbing techniques in favor of clawing his way to the top. Rock wanted to train with him for the up and coming KOF tournament, and Iori didn't mind much. He normally exercised alone, but by now he was so used to Rock trailing him everywhere, it was hardly an inconvenience. Rock had gotten tired of running for cardio - and suggested his climbing gym. Iori agreed without putting much thought to it.

Now he was regretting his entire existence, because he had now made his way to the top, and a quick glance told him he was about 35 feet up. A fall like that would at best break his legs and at worst outright kill him. Rock was holding the other end of his rope, and he was currently standing on the ground and rolling his eyes.

"Whatever boss. Alright. Come down. My turn."

"..."

"_Boss?! Hell-o? Hey! You can't climb down, you know! Just jump, I've got you... Oh my god..."_

Iori ignored the sound of his employee yelling at him from the floor, and proceeded to try and clamber down the wall the way he came up. It was slow as hell, sure - and the other climbers in the gym were sniggering at him - but frankly, he really didn't want to make that jump an-

_*rumble*_

The wall shook like it was some creature trying to dislodge him. He screeched.

"Fuck! Holy fucking shit! Howard! What the hell is happening!?"

He looked down to find somebody _not _Rock Howard holding the other end of his rappel. Iori looked about wildly, and finally found that innocent face staring up at him from the foot of the wall. That telltale flare of blue chi had nearly faded away, and Rock was obviously trying to hide the fact he had just hit the wall, and tried to throw his boss to his untimely death.

"Howard! You're fired."

"_Yeah, sure. Just jump down already."_

"I'm not jumping!"

"_... so you just wanna stay there? There are people waiting for that wall, you know."_

Iori couldn't care less, but Rock had proved himself very self conscious. If he was doing something embarrassing, Rock was typically the one who felt the shame and humiliation. Iori had done his best to dial back on the cringy shit. Not because he cared - he didn't, but because he didn't want Rock freaking out and getting violent.

So Iori knew Rock well enough to know he would probably be punching the wall again soon if Iori didn't jump. By this time, a small crowd had gathered at his feet and people were filming. Rock's first priority was going to be getting him off the wall.

"_Boss, Look you're coming down… I don't care what yo-"_

"I will string out your intestines so help me! Don't yo- HOWARD! FUC-"

_*rumble*_

"I'll murder you Howar-"

_*rumble*_

"YOU LITTLE SHIT!"

_*rumble*_

(etc…)

* * *

subscribe to Mr. Meatball


	15. Spares

_OKAY, UM._

_So I started writing this, then had a chat with Jojo - and realized he pretty much has a scene exactly like this... so._

_uh. Yeah, I guess it's a paraody of that scene, with my chars. _

_Go read his Kumite fic._

* * *

Leona Heidern was terribly excited.

The IKARI forces had just finished a skirmish with a dictatorship's forces in Cambodia, and Leona - instead of sneaking behind enemy lines - was part of the main force. Normally she would have been consigned to stealth duty for a mission like this - but the despot was holed up in a heavily guarded bunker, and wasn't moving anytime soon. It seemed like he had gotten his hands on some dangerous weaponry as well, so IKARI had called on Iori Yagami for support.

And Iori Yagami had taken a face full of shrapnel after incapacitating one of the enemy's electromagnetic railguns. He had received treatment in the field hospital, and was currently stuck in the medical ward down the hall. Leona had just gotten off her guard shift, and was racing down to see him.

_I wonder if… perhaps he'll give me an autograph._

Leona was a bit of a superfan. The whole thing started when Iori effortlessly cut her down during the quarterfinals of a KOF tournament several years back. Ever since then, she had gone from being enamored with his strength, to enjoying his antics far too much… and before she knew it, she was the (secret) moderator of the infamous '_Yagami's shitty outfits'_ blog.

Of course, Iori neither knew of nor cared for his fans' antics. The only time he had actually addressed them as a group was after they set Boston on fire for the second time - and that was only because the police had forced him to. He was also famously rude to his followers, and if Leona had been a mere follower, she might have been too fearful to approach Iori at all.

Luckily, Leona Heidern was no normal woman. She was a highly trained military operative, and arguably one of the deadliest people on earth. In all of their brief interactions, (especially after the ST-1 incident) Iori treated her with a certain level of respect. She expected to receive that - rather distant - regard from him, so she felt no apprehension when she followed the heat in her blood to his hospital door. Without a moment of hesitation, she walked boldly into his room.

"_Ohh, Who's that?"_

"_Who ar'e you? Bitch get out!"_

She shouldn't have walked so boldly into that room.

Iori was laying on the bed all but unconscious. There was something serious in his IV, and whenever his eyelids fell open, his pupils began pointing in different directions. Perhaps his injuries were more severe than Leona had thought, because from the looks of it, he had just come out from surgery.

Even so, that was the least shocking thing about this scene.

Because there was a blonde woman wearing nothing but panties snuggled up against him. She raised her head from the crook of his neck and Leona immediately recognized her by the ghastly hole where her right eye should have been. Iori had torn it out himself many years ago… the Hakkeshu, Mature.

Her partner in crime, Vice, was busy reading Iori's medical chart and practicing her suture skills on some exposed flesh on his leg. She had apparently been a doctor in her past life and (according to IKARI surveillance) spent much of her time on earth reading medical journals and brutally dissecting things.

Leona froze, not quite knowing the appropriate response to this sort of situation. She hadn't heard any news that Vice and Mature were here. In fact, IKARI would have never let them on base. They must have materialized here shortly after Iori was left alone to recover.

_Why… what are they here f-_

"His spleen exploded, and they sta'uck a new one right in… Hah, I sw'ear that Kagura woman's got an infinite supply of spare parts fah' our boy… you reckon she has an extra brain in a jar?"

Nobody answered her. It seemed Vice didn't expect one anyways. She was holding the chart in one hand, and suturing with the other. The other Hakkeshu seemed to understand there was _something _going on between Leona and Iori. Obviously, she decided her life wasn't too valuable, because she had begun to harass one of the best assassins on the face of the planet.

"You… You're the one _Baby Riot_ calls 'Blue', aren't you? Is it nice that Yaggo boy only sees your uniform? You might want to wear something more…" Mature looked her up and down, "_less-manly_ if you want _anyone_ to look at you."

Leona just blinked at her in silence. There was a stirring deep in her blood. Mature gauged her reaction and continued pushing. She seemed to be having fun.

"I mean, take a look at me." Mature smeared herself ever more lasciviously across Iori's torso. She fluttered her eyelids and planted a kiss on the unconscious man's throat. "You'd just _love _to be _right_ here, wouldn't you?"

Leona narrowed her eyes. She glared at the one-eyed woman and fingered the hilt of her knife. Mature didn't seem to realize the danger she was in and continued. Unbeknownst to her, she'd soon be the no-eyed woman.

"What do you think he does when he's not on one of your stupid missions, huh? Did you imagine he's pining for you? Ha! Your darling Iori Yagami keeps me warm every night… and I'm _dead_."

Her blood began buzzing, and Leona narrowed her focus. Every muscle in her body tensed. Ready for action.

"The bar isn't terribly high, _Mr. Blue_. _You_ just don't measure up… Sorr-_Aaah!"_

_"..."_

* * *

_Gaaugh! FAUUCK!_

Iori was quite happily languishing in a drug induced sleep when _someone _violently stomped him in the balls. The pain was so bad, he almost passed out immediately after the rude awakening. He hollered, convulsed and split the stitches in his gut before he curled up to cry a couple of tears into his pillow.

_Ughh… _

After what felt like an eternity (of pain), he twisted his neck in search of the offender who dared damage him in such a lowball manner. He found Leona Heidern standing over him. She was holding a knife in one hand, and Mature by the throat in the other. Both of them staring at him - Leona looked significantly more apologetic. She was the guilty one. She was also wearing steel toed boots.

… _Heidern… fuck, shit..._

Iori opened his mouth to yell at her (he honestly didn't know how his voice was going to sound after this), but was interrupted by Vice - who hadn't stopped stabbing him in the ankle with her needle set. She spoke in a scientific matter-of-fact monotone. Iori looked at her wearily.

"Mornin' Yaggo, you reckon Kagura's got a spare set of testicles for ya?"

Mature laughed (Leona hadn't yet let go of her neck) and patted her attacker on the hand.

"I suppose this is one way to fix the gender issue. I pronounced you man and wife!

* * *

_Chiz deffo has a spare set of balls for her Gammy boi :smiley_face_with_three_hearts:_

_K._

_Im pretty sure Jojo's fic doesn't have Iori getting kicked in the nuts tho... hm._

_Vice is super brutal but is actually pretty chill._

_Poor baby_


	16. Maxi-Dad

Wryyyyy.

_Daaaaaavidd Taiiiiiii_

_He own's Nanoverse's K' Maxima and Whip... and probably a ton of other people I can't remember._

_Go PM him :) _

* * *

"You're a dipshit, Maxie," K' said. His head lolled over the back of his chair as he lounged on the sofa. He had torn his eyes off the television to throw an insult across the room. Maxima was unphased.

"In your usual mood, I see, K," Maxima responded languidly from the recliner, legs spread out over the couch. "So what's got up your pants today? Pretty sure we stopped using starch for laundry."

"You've been playing us like marionettes."

"What're you talking about?" Maxima said, raising one eyebrow.

"I'm talking about the way you've got this room arranged." K' motioned towards Kula, who was busy playing Candy Crush on an iPhone. "She's sitting right there, playing her iPad."

"So?"

"Her chair happens to be placed right near an outlet so she can plug in her phone."

"Go on..." Maxima said stolidly.

"And me... I'm sitting right here in this quiet little corner in the shade cuz I can't deal with too much of you lot."

"Isn't that what you wanted?"

"Yeah, except you've got the couch right where you can stretch your legs all you want."

"Yeaaaah. I don't think this makes me a puppet master, though," Maxima responded.

K' started ticking off other incidents on his fingers.

"Using up my shampoo every month just when it's my turn to do the shopping, just to make me go."

"Hey, if it motivates you to get out..."

"Using my toothbrush to clean the toilet."

"Considering how hard you brush, you should be thanking me for making you use new toothbrushes, cheapskate."

"Making me invite my sister over."

"I did no such thing."

"You left -subliminal messages- in Kula's game to get her to nag me."

"Prove it."

K' held up a phone with a snapshot of a subliminal message, "CALL SEIRAH", in the middle of a moving Candy Crush screen.

Maxima shooked his head slowly, before flashing a grin.

"What you smiling at, old man?"

"You didn't figure this out on your own, did you?"

"What the fuck does it matter how it was figured out? I'm on to you, muttonhead."

"Seirah figured all this out, did she?"

K' growled.

Maxima reached out, and patted K' on the head.

"Aww, such a good little brother you are."

"FUCK OFF, FUCKFACE."

* * *

_Maxima is a really manipulative dad_

_whoa. _

_:0 _

_Not as bad as devilmom, but equally effective :) I love it_


	17. Riot Adventures 3: Animal

_Little bit of a side story spinoff thing for On tour.  
where Chris shows up?_

_And Athena isn;t there_

_and Team Maxima is there too. It's a funny little excerpt by DAVID TAI so go send him kisses._

:smiley_face_with_three_hearts:

* * *

They'd needed a drummer, and with Sie Kensou on hiatus - Iori Yagami made do, assigning Chris to sing and taking over drums himself.

He'd reckoned that although he had never touched a drumset in his life, at least he had good rhythm and could keep beat. He'd only figured out the snare and the cymbals - and it didn't sound very good, but at this point he was working with a skeleton crew and didn't much care. At least it was better than putting... Chris on the drums. Because Chris was had just finished his High School SAT Prep (his parent's didn't seem to care he had resurrected - and always immediately insisted he continued his schooling upon his rise from the dead) and there was no way Iori wasn't going to strangle him for a 2 bpm misstep. Besides - the score was 4/3 and nobody could count 4/3. Well, except for him... obviously.

_This is gonna be a shitshow... oh well... _

The problem was, tonight, Rock's IKARI stalker had brought _his _IKARI stalker... and that fuckhead K', and Kula to the concert. Perhaps Maxima needed a night to himself, or perhaps they just wanted to come and see him freak the fuck out - but it seemed the IKARI women had volunteered to take the K-kids out... to _his _concert. Which was a shitshow... because he was on the drums, and he had a 14 year old on mics. A fourteen year old who - just five years ago - had been the most egregious environmental terrorist the world had ever seen.

_Honestly, didn't think his parents would let him out... ah well... _

To make things worse, _Riot_ was going nuts too.

_B-b-b-bluuue...! kakakaka!_

Riot _loved _Leona. He just blubbered and screeched whenever she was nearby - and frankly (although Iori found it terribly annoying) he had begun liking her too. Although he was pretty sure the emotions weren't his, it wasn't as if he could stop it. Riot liked the Hakkesshu as well. It didn't stop him from occasionally killing them, but he was more than pleased to have Chris hanging around. Now that he thought about it, Iori's penchant for friendliness his bitter enemies was probably a side effect of his demonic split personality.

_Riot... be quiet man._

_Chrissy! Chrissy!_

_Please... shut up... can you count with me instead?_

_CHRISSY! _

Iori rolled his eyes. He peeked over the top of his cymbals to gauge the crowd's reactions. They were clearly a bit confused why _he, _the main attraction, was sitting behind a drum shield, and a young boy who looked fresh out of middle school was attempting to sing Ave Maria. Iori sighed and stood. Generally, when shit wasn't exciting enough, he either lit up- or he let Riot out. The crowd normally loved it (they had started a twitter for what they referred to as _'Yagami's little cave monster'_), and Riot was itching to get out anyways. He'd likely whine for the next month if Iori didn't let him out.

_Hey, Riot._

_BLUE! OUT!_

_Can you play nice? you can do whatever you want, but keep your butt in this seat. Capiche?_

_BLUE!_

_Butt. Seat. Understood!_

_OK OK BLUE!_

_Goddammit... whatever. No painting. _

* * *

Riot was practically an Animal on the drums.

He screeched and flailed and whipped his head about so violently that K' was certain he'd snap his neck. He'd been nearly out-roaring the mics for the past ten minutes as he practically -threw- his drumsticks at the sets. Although it was completely unorthodox - and sounded terrible - it was clearly, and perfectly in time. Rock Howard was cringing onstage, but he wasn't screaming and running - so obviously he had encountered the Riot before. Chris was nonplussed, continuing to sing as though feral Iori was nothing new to him. Which, to be fair, was true of practically everyone on stage.

Despite the earsplitting cacophony, the crowd was always whipped into a frenzy by the insanity on stage. People were yelling and jumping up and down. A group of people had started a bare-knuckle fighting ring somewhere behind them. It seemed that Iori's insanity had infected the entire stadium. What a nut.

_*WHAMWHAMAWHAMWHAMWHWHAMMAAWHAMMAWHAMMAAAAAAAAAA*_

K' rolled his eyes and curled his lip in contempt. He didn't want to be here. He'd been dragged out, nagged, bribed, sent three packs of Costco-sized Jerky... Maxima had pulled all the stops. Well, it worked - and here he was, doing his best to make sure he didn't enjoy his time here. After all, he hated Iori Yagami with a passion, and Iori hated him back with equal intensity. Despite their history, there was a certain wonder in watching _so much _go wrong at the same time. It was astonishing, and what was even more astonishing was Iori Yagami had decided to exacerbate the situation instead of trying to amend it. He clearly could have just assigned the 14-year old to the drums, and sang - resulting in a more normal performance, but his own obsession with prevented him from doing so. Instead, he had descended his own concert into a shit-show, and the crowd didn't mind in the least.

_Lunatic... I bet people come to his concerts for this... like they go to hockey to watch the fights... _

Riot was melting the drums now. They were literally on fire, and Iori was contently sitting in the middle of it pounding on the snare. K' removed his sunglasses to get a better look, and realized Iori's eyes were pointing in two different directions. He snickered. Maybe this _was_ entertaining. Iori screamed.

"KA-KA-KA-KA-KA! BLUUUUEE! KEKEKEKE!"

_*WHAMMAWHAMMAWHAMMAWHAMMA!*_

K' sneered and spat some mean words, truthfully he was watching his _'enemy' _embarrass himself with no little satisfaction.

"What is this, the mating call of the Orochi?"

Kula, who was sitting beside him, clapped her hands together excitedly. "I think it's adorable! Can we play with Iori, K'?"

"Help yourself," K' motioned towards Riot. "He sounds like he needs a cold shower."

"Okay!"

Kula hopped off her seat. Her hair turned from orange to blue as she ice-glided down over the heads of the crowd -before- Whip or Leona could stop her. Clearly they were concerned Kula might get hurt - as Riot wasn't particularity known for being friendly to strangers. In fact, he normally tore out stranger's intestines. However, K' wasn't worried about Kula. She was essentially built to counter fire-users. Hopefully she'd freeze him solid or something. That'd be fun.

K' leaned back in his seat and grinned smugly. Knowing this mess of a concert about to be disrupted, he pulled out his phone and began recording. Kula had landed on stage (earning her looks of confusion from Rock and Chris) and trotted up to the man in the midst of the fiery drums. As she approached, she absentmindedly froze the volatile purple flames, and they shattered harmlessly as they fell to the floor. Riot didn't seem to notice her until she leaned forward and waved in his face.

"Hiiiiii, Iori! Want to play?"

"BLLLUUUUUUUEEE PLAY?"

"Blue play!"

Kula enthused, whipping her blue hair about.

"KAKAKAKA!"

And Riot went into another spasm of drum-beating, as Leona and Whip made their way down to the stage. Leona looked panicked and was clearly attempting to prevent Riot from doing any sort of 'playing' whatsoever. K' didn't blame her. He'd seen Riot in action before, and he was confident in Kula's ability to handle him. Besides - it didn't look like Iori was going to attack anyone this moment anyways.

Leona whistled.

"Riot, we can play later, oka-"

Kula pouted and leaned in, drowning her out.

"Blue play now!"

She clapped her hands together. "Come on, boy, play with me!"

Riot looked back and forth between Leona (who had finally climbed on-stage) and Kula, and seemed to be deliberating very carefully. He chattered his teeth and glanced about nervously before a grinning and leaping over the drum set to stand in between the two girls. He was still clutching the drumsticks in his fists and he waved them about in glee.

"TOO BLUE."

"Awwww!"

Kula reached out and patted Riot on the head, before hugging him around the neck. "Who's a good boy? Iori! Iori's a good boy!"

That was the moment K' was waiting for. He put on his most deadpan sneer as he took a selfie of himself with a background of Riot being hugged by Kula in the background with Leona trying to tug the two of them apart. He sent if off- with the caption:

"Hope it was worth it, Maxie."

* * *

_LMAO Tai._

_Made K' a tad bit salty  
Iori is pretty much Riot's bitch tbh. The toddler runs the house._


End file.
